


I Was A Prayer

by JustJasper



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, M/M, Oral Sex, Public Blow Jobs, Semi-Public Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-28
Updated: 2015-06-28
Packaged: 2018-04-06 13:51:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4224090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustJasper/pseuds/JustJasper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorian is feeling frisky in the crowded Herald's Rest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Was A Prayer

“ **Those who restrain desire do so because theirs is weak enough to be restrained.” - William Blake**

Krem drank steadily on his right, attention held across the bar. Dalish and Skinner were to his left, talking in hushed voices. Iron Bull drank from his tankard and looked at him with one piercing eye from the opposite side of the table, all knowing, teasing smile and silent promises.

So the reasons Dorian slipped under the table when Blackwall's attention was with Sera throwing peanuts up into the air to catch in her mouth and Varric was attempting to flag down the nearest serving girl were simple: it was getting late, he was pleasantly tipsy, he wanted The Iron Bull, and he could not rid himself of the thrill at the thought of having him in the crowded Herald's Rest, with only people's legs and lack of interest in the space under the table as cover. It was going to murder his knees, he thought, but that was a concern for another time, for when Bull could kiss the bruises and sooth the aches.

Bull's bulk was a blessing, his huge legs framing Dorian and keeping any wandering feet away from discovering him. A large grey hand was waiting for him, palm open in a silent question. Dorian kissed it, nuzzling into it, his answering intent. Bull's fingers curled gently against his jaw, thumb stroking over his lower lip in a gesture Dorian understood as a yes, as permission to do this. Bull pulled back his hand as Dorian got started on the laces of his trousers.

“Where'd Sparkler go?”

Heavy mugs were set down on the table above as Dorian reached into Bull's ridiculous trousers and freed his cock and balls, already showing interest.

“To take a piss,” Bull lied effortlessly, and conversations resumed. That qunari Ben-Hassrath cool was to be put to the test.

He felt the weight of him in his hand, a shape familiar now, heavy and solid and hot. The angle was awkward, and he had to rest his head on the underside of the table to be comfortable, but he could hardly back out now without everyone knowing what he'd been doing. He didn't waste any time thinking about him having to deal with that exact same scenario after going through with the idea.

“Kirkwall was a haven for it,” Varric was saying, barely distinguishable over the noise of the crowded tavern. “not sure how many stayed after Hawke defeated the Arishok in single combat.”

Bull groaned. “Are you ever going to give that up?”

“Not a chance, Tiny. And after that, of course-”

He rolled Bull's heavy balls in his hand as he stroked him hard, breathed out a stream of cool air across the tip of his cock. Bull shifted, and the conversations went on as before. It was mind boggling that a cock so intimidating flaccid could fill out into something so huge that Dorian had to scoot back on his knees a little, mindful of the two pairs of legs either side of the space left open for him to return.

In the low light the head of Bull's cock looked dark and shiny, and he stretched his lips eagerly around it and sucked. The salty taste of his precum smeared over Dorian's tongue as he teased around the corona, sliding the tip of his tongue around the sensitive skin. Beside him he could feel Bull's muscles going taught, and he wondered how well he was doing at schooling his face into neutrality, of keeping up his conversation while Dorian eagerly sucked on his Maker-sent prick.

Dorian had a practised mouth, though Bull's size had been a learning curve, but he was a very good student. He was large and thick around, bigger than anyone Dorian had been with before, but certainly not an impossible size. Dorian eased back to pull his lips over his teeth and then let Bull's cock slide along his tongue, along the roof of his mouth, hot and hard and fucking delicious. He pulled back, lips stretched in a way he knew Bull liked to watch, then pressed forward again, the top of his head sliding along the thankfully smooth underside of the table.

“You did not!” Blackwall guffawed, and Sera laughed manically, swinging her feet under the table, Dorian protected by Bull's huge legs.

“I did. And no prig noble is going to forget it any time soon!”

Dorian continued his languid, indulgent pace, sucking his cheeks hollow around Bull's cock, one hand bracing around the base of him and the other tugging at his balls. He pulled off to swirl his tongue around the head, licked a long stripe from the point his hand covered to the tip, the angle under the table a little awkward, but not enough to stop him. He was going to make Bull lose it. He sucked his cock back into his mouth, pressed down and down until he felt the head against the back of his throat.

Bull groaned above him, and Dorian pulled back slightly, though not off his cock as he grinned with wild abandon. If he had heard that, everyone else had, and they were about to discover him with a mouth full of qunari cock. For some reason the idea sounded embarrassing, but not as fear-inducing as the possibility of being caught in such a situation would have been mere months ago. Everyone already knew they were fucking, that they were a nebulous something more. Finding them doing this would hardly be that much of a surprise, he thought.

“You okay?” Varric's voice.

“Yeah,” Bull said, and surprisingly, let himself moan a little again. “My knee's been giving me shit since we got back from the Emprise.”

Then, _Maker_ , Bull's hand was under the table, and went to rub his knee. Clever git.

“The cold?” Blackwall offered.

Sera joined in. “My elbow gets stiff in the cold, since I smashed it in Lord Farty-ton's face.”

Bull's hand found the back of Dorian's head, and with pressure that Dorian could have easily ignored if he wanted to, guided him down onto his cock again.

“Stitches made me a rub for it, but it's still sore. You know how it is.”

Bull took his hand away and Dorian swallowed around his cock, allowing the head into his throat. He loved this part, the achievement he felt being able to handle this much and the way Bull could be laid out by it made him feel like sucking Bull's cock was divine worship. Or blasphemy, depending on which seemed more pleasurable at the time.

The bard had started up a loud rendition of a tavern favourite, starting a chorus of singing, and Dorian thought the Maker must have approved to give him the perfect cover for the obscene wet sounds that came with sucking on a cock so big. He pulled back noisily, then sunk down, taking Bull into his throat. The angle was difficult, and Bull had to ease his knees wider, but Dorian managed, swallowing around the solid girth of him.

Apparently whatever was going on above him was distracting enough that Bull thought he could get away with putting his hand under the table again, fingers in Dorian's hair and thumb pressing into the top of his spine as he made long pulls on his cock. His chin was a wet mess of precome and saliva, and his own cock was achingly hard in the confines of his clothing.

He pushed his head down, mouth then throat, until he managed to touch his nose to Bull's pubes. He gave his heavy balls a strong squeeze and swallowed around him, and Bull came with a grunt straight down his throat, big hand on his head holding his face against his crotch as his hips jerked into the sensation. He'd bemoan later not getting to have Bull's come in his mouth like he liked, to taste the essence of him, but he had a feeling this was the first of many opportunities he'd get that night. He pulled back slowly, swirling his tongue around the head one last time before he pulled off.

Bull slumped, and with fingers touching along his jaw, so bloody gentle and sweet, his hand retreated.

Dorian tucked him back into his garish trousers and wiped his chin, and finally let himself wonder just how he was going to re-emerge without everyone knowing what he'd been doing. It was still noisy, and he could hear both Sera and Blackwall singing, but he had no idea what the rest of the people at the table were doing or whether they were paying attention.

His knees were starting to hurt, and he couldn't sit there the rest of the night, so before he could work himself into a frenzy of worry, he ease himself out from under the table back into his chair. Varric was standing at the next table over, talking to Scout Harding. Dalish, on his left, had turned her chair away and was now sitting in Skinner's lap. Krem had vacated his seat, and was just in view through the crowd, talking with that Templar Barris who made everyone who saw him praise Andraste for the privilege of setting eyes on him. Blackwall and Sera were singing along to the bard's songs, clearly the fun side of sloshed.

The Iron Bull's gaze was heavy on him, drunk on something more than ale as he watched him from the opposite side of the table. Dorian raised an eyebrow at him.

“Kadan,” he said, in the same reverent way he said 'atashi' before they threw themselves into a dragon fight.

Dorian smirked, and pulled the last untouched tankard from the newest round of drinks over to him. The night was still young, after all.

**“Certain thoughts are prayers. There are moments when, whatever be the attitude of the body, the soul is on its knees.” - Victor Hugo**


End file.
